The Tale of Teenage Superheroes
by Mentally Impaired
Summary: Wil Bowen spent his entire life learning how to fight, never imagining where such skills would lead him. Now he's part of an up and coming team of young superheroes. However, the teens quickly learn that being a superhero isn't a dream, its a nightmare.


Ok first of all this is going to be a gritty and dark story. I got started on the idea after watching The Dark Knight, which is my favorite movie and one I saw three times in its first two weeks out in theaters. I was already a big fan of Batman Begins, but the Dark Knight takes things to a new level.

Anyway, this story will include violence, most of which will be described in as good of detail as I can write. These heroes aren't like those you read in the comics from the 60's and 70's. There is no happiness after defeating a villain, or a feeling of content after a job well done. As the story goes on, and the main character and his friends live more and more of their lives as superheroes, they realize that the world is a terrible place. No matter how many good people there are in the world, there are even more who do terrible things, whether its for money, power or just for the hell of it.

I know the world of DC is huge, and there are many different "universes" and worlds out there. I also know that "Crisis on Infinite Earths" apparently brought everything into one world. Since many different villains and heroes are going to be written in, with even more being mentioned. I'll try to give a brief description of what storyline I'm choosing for that superhero, as well as where on that storyline I'm taking them out of. I know many of the different volumes have events that coincide, so I'll try to keep that in mind. Though I feel I should warn you that I'm only having one Universe in this story. I'm still debating if I'm going to use "Crisis on Infinite Earths" in this story, but if I do, obviously, I'll have to alter it greatly.

I'm not that big of a comic book reader. Batman, Robin/Nightwing and the Green Arrow are my favorite superheroes, and I have read multiple volumes and issues that involve those three, but other then that I have only picked up a few other ones.

Metropolis is in Maryland. Gotham is in New Jersey. Bludhaven is also in New Jersey. So is Jamesville (the town where the main character from) for that matter.

Chapter 1 Discovering the Hero in You

Gwilym Bowen stretched lightly, trying to loosen up his tightening muscles. Boxing had gone on a little longer then usual, due to the fact that Johnny, his trainer, had wanted him to spar with another of the trainer's boxers-in-training. Gwilym had taken his knocks, especially since his opponent was about twenty pounds heavier and a lot stronger, but in the end his speed had led to his win.

Wil, as he was known to his friends and family, threw his duffel bag over his shoulder, ignoring the throb in his ribs. There were bruises the size of his hand on his left side, and smaller ones along his right. Looking in one of the many mirrors in the locker room he could see that his bottom lip was swollen and there was a nasty looking bruise below his left eye.

"Mom is gonna kill me" the teen muttered, lightly touching his left cheek.

Wil reached a height of five feet, nine inches and was still growing. Short light brown hair sat on his head, usually gelled into messy spikes, but was now sticking up in odd directions and damp with sweat. He had almond-shaped gray eyes, which he had inherited from his father. His cheek-bones were high and prominent, his nose was slightly upturned and his lips were small. No facial hair rested on his face, and he had a roguish grin that girls at his school called dreamy.

He weighed in at one-hundred and sixty-three pounds and didn't have an inch of fat on his body. Ever since the age of ten he had been making sure his body was at physical perfection for his age. Not only did he box, but he also took part in aikido, judo, kendo and silambam. He had also practiced karate and taekwondo for eight years, starting at the age of five. Then there was the fact that he was on his school's ice hockey team, where he played defense, and had practices three times a week. Not only that but he also worked out four days a week, to make sure his body stayed in top condition.

As you could imagine, all of that training, practicing and working out left him no time for a job, or much of a social life for that matter. He did have a few friends, and many acquaintances but no one he was particularly close to. It didn't help that he was extremely sarcastic.

Wil had decent grades and was maybe a little bit smarter then average. He was extremely good at reading people, by facial expressions and body language alone. One thing he got a lot of comments on was his laugh, which had been described to him as a barking laugh and for some reason reminded people of a dog.

At fifteen Wil wasn't able to drive, and even if he could there was no way he, nor his parents, could afford a car for him to drive. Which is why he relied on his feet and the bus a lot. If he really wanted to, he could call his parents or older sister for a ride, but he usually enjoyed a nice walk home to clear his mind.

Besides, the gym was only a thirty minute walk from his house. The sun had set a while ago but the street lamps illuminated the environment in an orange glow. Most shops had closed already, after all it was late on a Thursday, and those that weren't were in the process of doing so.

He was walking by the entrance of an alley, when a loud 'bang' filled the air. Knowing something was wrong because he knew what that sound was, Wil ran down the alley, heading in the direction he had heard the gun shot from. As he neared the end of the alley, which opened up into a small clearing behind some shops, he saw what had caused the noise. Five masked men had guns pointed at two teenagers, one female and one male, who were maybe a year or two older then he was. Another three masked men lay on the ground, most likely knocked out. The gun shot had come from one of the men firing their weapon into the air, most likely to frighten the two teens.

"Should have kept your noses out of this freaks!" one of the masked men shouted.

"You don't scare me" the male teenager replied.

"I don't huh? Well maybe this will!" the guy cocked his gun, and Wil knew he needed to do something.

Racing forward, Wil came up behind the guy and yanked his gun arm into the air. The firearm fired, a bullet ripping out of the barrel and colliding with the wall above the two teenagers heads. Bringing his leg back, Wil slammed his knee into the back of the man's, making him collapse into Wil. Instead of stopping the man's fall, Wil took a step back and slammed his fist into the guy's chest, speeding up his fall and making him slam into the ground with a thud.

As one of the guys closer to Wil turned around, Wil ducked to the ground and swept the man's legs out from underneath him. Before the man could even make a move to get up, the gray-eyed teen delivered a swift punch to his temple, effectively knocking the man out.

The other three men all quickly turned toward Wil, their guns raised. The two teens, realizing the attention was diverted from them, sprung into action. The girl launched herself forward, flying through the air and slamming her shoulder into one of the men. The man let out a cry of shock as he went tumbling forward. The boy ran forward and punched a guy in the back of the head, sending him crashing to the ground.

The final guy turned his head, to see what happened to his two comrades. Wil lashed out with his leg, kicking the man's gun hand and knocking the weapon from his grasp. Before the thug could fully comprehend the uselessness of his situation, Wil kneed him in the stomach and uppercutted him in the jaw.

"That was awesome!" the male teenager said, pumping his fist into the air.

"Awesome?" Wil exclaimed, turning toward the teen. "What the hell are you guys doing that people are pointing guns at you?"

"We're superheroes" the teen informed Wil.

"Not really" the girl muttered. Her friend shot her a glare.

"At least we are trying to be ones. We really only took up the idea a few weeks ago"

"And how the hell are you guys superheroes? You didn't seem very effective right there if you ask me. If I didn't interfere it looked like you guys would have been killed!"

The male laughed haughtily, and puffed out his chest. "I would have found a way out of it. And I'm a superhero because I am super strong!"

To demonstrate his point, the teen walked over to the unconscious thugs and easily lifted up two of them by his index and thumb, one for each hand. Wil nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"What can you do?"

The girl blushed under Wil's gaze.

"I can fly," she mumbled.

She didn't seem to want to show him she actually could, but Wil found himself believing her any way.

"Do you guys have uniforms? Equipment? A headquarters? Anything?" Wil may not have been one himself, but all the superheroes had those kinds of things. Batman had his utility belt, the batcave (though no one knew where it was) and a cool looking outfit. The Teen Titans had the T-tower in New York, along with an assortment of gadgets.

"We have names. I am Anubis, and she is Nephthys," the male said, pointing to each of them.

"You named yourselves after Egyptian gods?" Wil asked, raising his eyebrow.

"It goes with my name!" Anubis defended.

"You really shouldn't be telling people that. Then they'll work out who your secret identity is. A mask might help to keep that a secret as well."

Anubis glared at Wil, while the girl turned her head away in embarrassment.

Anubis was about six feet tall. He had messy black hair and large chocolate-brown eyes. His nose was wide, and his lips thin. The teen's face looked boxy, including his square jaw and he had a stocky build that looked like that of a heavyweight boxer. Anubis' skin was brown, and it was obvious he had Arabian ancestors, like his apparently Egyptian name would indicate.

Anubis was cocky. That was easy to tell from his speech alone. However, Wil was good at reading people. Their body language spoke much to him, and Anubis' spoke of superiority. Because of his powers, Anubis thought him better then others. Really, everything about Anubis spoke of arrogance. That and a distrust and unfriendly behavior toward anyone who he didn't see as worthy.

Nephthys was five feet and six inches tall. Her hair was a mane of wavy red hair, that cascaded down her back. Her eyes were a light blue and her cheek bones were high. She had a button nose, with pouty lips and freckles littered her face. Her body, while curvaceous, wasn't athletic looking like he expected a superheroine, or at least someone wanting to be one, would look. Instead her body looked like your average female.

Nephthys was uncertain in herself. She moved as if everything she did came with great hesitation. Yet there was a hidden fire underneath everything, that only really shined in her eyes. It was as if she had the soul of an Amazon hidden in a overly shy child's body. It was easy to see that if Anubis wasn't there to prod her on, Isis would be content living a normal life.

"Do you want to join us?" Nephthys asked, surprising both Wil and Anubis.

"What?" Anubis all but shouted. "Join us? He doesn't even have a superpower! And besides, we don't need his help!"

"As if I'd want to join you guys. I'm out of here"

"Wait!" Nephthys shouted, ignoring Anubis urging her to let Wil leave.

Wil stopped and turned toward the hero-wannabe. She stopped in front of him and reached her hand into the front right pocket of his jeans, the one he kept his phone in. Wil raised his eyebrows in surprise at her boldness, trying to fight the blush that he felt rising on his cheeks.

"I'm putting my number in your phone. If you ever change your mind about joining us call me" she said, looking him in the eyes.

Wil blinked at her forwardness, he had thought she was shy. She handed his phone back to him, and he took it. He didn't say anything, just walked off, leaving the two teens with all the thugs they had knocked out.

* * *

"I'm home!"

Wil threw his duffel bag onto the floor of the hallway and kicked his shoes off his feet.

"Where have you been?" his dad asked, entering the room.

Carwyn Bowen was a small man at five feet seven inches and only one hundred and fifty pounds. The Welsh immigrant, who had moved to America when he was a teenager, had blond hair and almond-shaped gray eyes. His nose had a bulbous tip, his lips were small and his jaw was pointed. He was a dentist, where he worked at a large office.

Carwyn was very supportive of his son's lifestyle. In fact, Carwyn Bowen had been picked on his entire life for his small size, and that bullying had lead to him making sure his son never went through the same. He was the one who signed Wil up for all of the martial arts he practiced. He was the one who encouraged his son to take up boxing, and the one who turned his son onto hockey.

"Johnny just wanted me to spar with another trainer's project. It took longer then I thought," Wil answered, leaving out the fact that he had taken on five thugs with guns and was offered a spot in an up and coming superhero team.

His mom entered the room and let out a gasp when she noticed his face. "Did he wear boxing gloves or cement blocks?"

Katen Bowen was a small woman at five feet one inch and a little over a hundred pounds. She was originally born in the Netherlands but moved to the States when she finished college. She was the one Wil had inherited most of his looks from, from the upturned nose and high-prominent cheek bones to the light brown hair that sat on her head. Her wide mouth and blue eyes, however were not passed on to Wil, but rather both his sisters.

Katen, though supportive of her son, was also very protective of him. She didn't like it when he came home with bruises and cuts, and with his choice of activities, it happened often. She had argued until her face was blue about him joining hockey, but ever since he had joined the team, she became a hockey nut. Although such protectiveness should have been expected from a kindergarten teacher.

Wil winced as she poked the bruise on his left cheek. "Its fine mom, honestly."

"I don't know why you continue with it, all it does is get you beaten up!"

"You think I'm bad? You should see the other kid!" Wil exclaimed, a hint of boasting in his voice.

"That's my boy!" Carwyn shouted, slapping his son on the back.

"I'm pretty tired, so I'm gonna go to bed early tonight."

"Jessica's already sleeping so don't disturb her!" His mother warned, wagging her finger at him.

"I'll make sure the angel doesn't lose any beauty sleep," Wil replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His mother gave him a stern look, which he returned with a meek one of his own. Giving her his most innocent grin he quickly retreated from the entry way to the staircase. When he reached the top of the narrow stairs, he made a left toward his and his two sister's rooms.

Jessica was his younger sister. She was thirteen years old and annoyed him to no end. She was already a good three inches taller then their mother, standing at five feet four inches. She was basically a younger, yet larger replica of their mother. Upturned nose, high-prominent cheek bones and wide mouth, along with the baby blue eyes. However, instead of their mom's brown hair, she had inherited their father's blond, which was the only thing that prevented people from getting confused when looking at younger pictures of their mom and thinking they were of Jessica.

Jessica was extremely popular in her grade. She was extremely friendly and didn't have a mean bone in her body. While many would have liked that in a sibling, Wil found it annoying. It also didn't help his ego that his younger sister went out more then he did, not that he cared that much, or so he told himself.

Alyssa, his older sister by three years, was the one he was closer too, despite Jessica being closer in age. Alyssa was a senior in high school, while he was only a freshman. She was equal halves both parents, unlike Jessica and Wil who were more their mother. She too had their mom's wide mouth and blue eyes, just like Jessica. She also had their mom's brown hair. The almond shape of her eyes, the nose with the bulbous tip and the pointed jaw, on the other hand she got from their dad. She was five feet six inches, almost the height of their father.

Alyssa was sarcastic, just like he was, but was still just as friendly as Jessica, once you got pass the sarcasm that is. She was going out with the captain of his school's hockey team, the one he had just joined this year. She was also pretty smart, most likely going to graduate in the Top 10 of her class (out of eight hundred people) and probably going to a damn good college.

"What's up squirt?"

Wil turned to Alyssa, who was currently leaning against her door frame. He made a face at her, knowing she knew he hated being called squirt.

"You know, when I was shorter then you, that might have been a good insult-slash-nickname. However, being as I already have three inches on you, and I'm still growing and you've stopped, its kind of stupid."

She smirked at his response, which was given in a sardonic tone he had learned from her.

"That may be true," she replied, giving him the same tone, "but it still annoys you, and is therefor a great nickname."

He stuck his tongue out at her, to which she responded by sticking out her own tongue.

"Are those bruises on your face?" she asked, indicating the purple-ish patch of flesh below his left eye.

"Yeah, I sparred today in boxing," he replied, shrugging.

"Well the first game of the season is tomorrow. If you can't play at a hundred percent because of some bruises you've got in boxing, Justin will kill you."

Wil wrinkled his nose at the mention of his hockey team captain, and sister's boyfriend. "Its not going to make me play any worse," Wil said, dismissing her concern.

"It better not. We didn't even make the playoffs last year, but with you and those two new forwards on the team, we have a legit shot at winning state. Justin is really counting on you to step up."

Wil rolled his eyes. Jamesville High School was nuts about its hockey team. Probably because it was the only good thing the school had going for it. Their other athletic departments sucked. Their football team hadn't won in six years, their baseball team generally had one or two wins a year and their other sport teams weren't any better. Hockey on the other hand, was the only sport they got wins in, and they had almost a dozen state championships in it, mostly from the late eighties to early nineties. While the team hasn't been anything great in the past few years, they were still pretty good and had always been on the edge of the playoffs.

"I promise my training won't get in the way of the hockey team going to state," Wil sarcastically said, raising his pointer and middle finger in a boy scout gesture.

"You better!" his sister said, grinning as she swiped at his head.

Wil ducked underneath the swing, scowling at his sister. She merely gave him a cheesy grin in return before spinning around and walking into her room. The door closed behind her, and Wil shook his head before opening the door into his room and turning on the light.

He had the smallest room in the house, which he didn't mind since he was really only in there to sleep. His bed was actually a futon folded out, and he had a small television sitting atop his dresser, and a stereo next to that. A large wardrobe consisting of workout clothes, various uniforms for his martial arts, his kendo stick, several pairs of boxing gloves and all his hockey equipment took up most of the space in his room. Several posters littered the wall; including one of his favorite player (Marc Staal) on his favorite team (the New York Rangers), one of Muhammad Ali and one of 3oh!3, who was his favorite music.

He picked up his pajama pants, which he had tossed onto his bed earlier in the day, and proceeded to change into them. He rarely wore a shirt to sleep anymore. Turning off the light, he stumbled to his bed and crawled in. Not even bothering to go underneath the cover or sheets, he just laid his head on the pillow and went to sleep in minutes.

* * *

Wil watched as the puck was passed from Justin, who was a center, to their first line right winger, a lanky teen named Kyle. Their team was up by a goal and there was a little over a minute left in the game. He currently stood, if thats what you wanted to call it, right on the other team's blue line.

All they were really suppose to do was waste time. Unfortunately, a bad pass had led to the puck being thrown into the other teams zone, behind the net. While Justin had been able to out skate the other team's defense, he had been checked brutally into the board and had barely gotten that pass off. Kyle went to pass it to their left-winger but the other team's center seemed to be anticipating the pass, and jumped into the lane.

As the opposing center stole the puck and began to accelerate with it, the opposing left winger fell into step with his middle-guy. Wil's partner on defense had moved up, anticipating a pass to the top of the left circle, and had been caught out of position. Wil quickly started to skate backwards, knowing the thirty feet between him and the rushing pair could be made up quickly, and he was the only line of defense from the two players and his goalie.

While he wasn't one of the fastest kids on the ice, what made Wil such a good defender was that he had quick acceleration in his back skate, and was actually quite fast while going backwards, at least compared to most. That and he could lay almost anyone out, despite being three or two years younger then most of those he faced off against.

By the time Wil passed his own blue line, the opposing center and left winger were about even with him. Knowing he couldn't let them get the one-timer off against his goalie, he waited another second before making his move.

He made it looked like he was going toward the guy who had the puck, the center, by shifting his body toward the puck-handler. The center, not wanting there to be any chance of the puck being picked off if he passed, or blocked if he shot, by allowing Wil to get closer to him, went to make a quick pass toward his teammate. However, Wil hadn't moved that much, and was still pretty much between the two forwards. He lunged forward, the blade of his stick sliding on the ice as he used it to stop the pass from taking place, his blade just skimming the puck.

Putting as much effort as he could, he slowed down his backward momentum. Once the opposing center and left-winger noticed that the puck had been stolen from them, they both made a move toward Wil, hoping to man-handle it right back. Instead of panicking, Wil just corralled the puck to him and shot it out of his zone and into the neutral zone, where even if the other team did pick it up, they would still have to wait for their two forwards to get back on side, which would allow his team to catch up.

"What a defensive effort from the Jamesville freshman, number thirty-nine Bowen! He might have just saved his team's win with forty seconds left to play!"

Wil could barely hear the school's broadcaster, who announced the game for those sitting in the audience, as well as for the school's television broadcast on the local networks. The only sounds filtering into his ear were the sound of skates cutting through the ice, the puck being slapped around on the blades of several sticks, and the roar of the home crowd, who had greatly appreciated his play.

Justin managed to get the puck again, and pass it back to Wil. Wil took the puck and moved backwards toward his goal, waiting for the other team to rush him. It was a game of keep away until the clock ran out.

As two of the other teams players tried to corner him behind his net, he shot the puck against the boards, pass a stretched out opponent, and back into the neutral zone. The game was basically over at that, knowing that unless the other team got a lucky bounce on a shot from the blue line, there was nothing they could do.

* * *

"Where do you think your going?" Justin asked, putting his hand on Wil's shoulder and stopping him from going anywhere.

"Home?" Wil said, his tone questioning, as if unsure if that was where he was really going.

"Home? Not right now!" Justin said, a grin splitting his face.

"Then where the hell am I going?"

Justin only grinned harder at Wil's annoyed expression.

"You are coming out with us tonight! We win as a team and we party as a team!" Justin exclaimed, putting Wil in a headlock.

Wil struggled to get out of the grip, not wanting to use the more violent techniques he knew into getting out of such a grapple.

Instead, Wil was forced to walk at an awkward angle, his hockey bag, which weighed a good twenty-five pounds, dangling from his shoulder and almost scraping the ground. He was led out of the back entrance of the locker room, which came out into the rinks parking lot.

"You know, if he really wanted to he could probably break that headlock and your arm in the process," Alyssa said, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

Justin grinned at her as he released Wil from his grip, who then proceeded to glare at his captain. Justin was in too good of a mood to care though, as he was still grinning like a fool.

"What the hell are you so happy about?" Wil demanded.

"That team won states last year. And besides a center, the entire team is the same as last years. We just beat probably one of the best teams in the state!"

"Whoo," was Wil's uncaring response.

Justin didn't seemed fazed by Wil's lack of caring, and having lived with him, Alyssa was use to it.

"There's a party at my house tonight," Justin stated, as he walked toward his jeep. "And since your sister told your parents we'd be taking care of you tonight, you have no ride home and are forced to come with us."

"Traitor," Wil muttered to his sister, who only smirked at him.

Wil allowed himself to be led to Justin's jeep, calling out responses to those who called out compliments on his game, and those who yelled about how they would be seeing him at this party he was apparently going to.

The older male opened the trunk to his jeep and tossed his own bag into it. Wil followed suit, slamming the trunk close when he was done. With a resigned sigh, he hopped into the back and allowed his sister and her boyfriend to lead him to the party.

* * *

Wil had to admit, he was having a pretty good time. He had had beer before, thanks to his father who kept saying, "Beer puts hair on any males chest!" However, he had never been to a party like this in his life, and almost regretted spending all his time training.

He was one of three freshman there, with the party mostly made up of juniors and seniors. He had spent most of his time just kind of standing toward the outside of his sister's circle of friends, since besides his teammates he didn't really know anyone. That was until his sister had threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't go mingle with some new people and leave her the hell alone.

So he had, not for fear of what his sister would do to him, but because he thought it was high time he started making more friends. While he didn't exactly make many new friends, he did meet this cute junior who appeared to be interested in him. Then again, that might have been the alcohol speaking, since she did appear pretty drunk. But, he had a heavy buzz going himself, and didn't exactly care at the moment.

"You want to come with me to get some smokes?"

Wil nodded his head, and allowed Kathy, which he was ninety-percent sure her name was, to grab his hand and lead him through the crowd and out of the house. They began the walk to the convenient store two blocks down the road.

"So your really only fifteen?" she asked, snaking left arm around his right and leaning herself against his side.

Wil, a little flustered at having a pretty girl so close to him, winced as she asked it. "Yeah."

"You look older. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in my grade"

"Thanks....I think"

Kathy giggled lightly at his response, pressing herself closer to him.

Wil struggled to make small talk, trying not to stumble over his words or unleash his entire sarcastic nature upon Kathy. Although it was a very awkward walk for Wil, Kathy didn't seem to mind, and in fact seemed to find many of Wil's bumbling comments humorous and cute.

He was thankful when they finally reached the store, it giving him the break he needed to compose himself. Kathy went to the counter in order to get her smokes, using her older sister's old id. Wil went to the back in order to browse for a snack to eat.

"Give me all the money!"

"Ahhh!"

Wil turned around quickly, his eyes widening at the sight before him. A short masked man had a gun trained toward the counter, where the clerk, who looked to be over seventy, and Kathy both stood, terrified.

Wil was instantly reminded of the incident the other night, when he had approached that group of men holding the two teen wannabe-superheroes at gun point. Could he do the same thing? It didn't look like the man was going to harm either of them, and if he did make a move he would more then likely put Kathy and the clerk at risk.

As the clerk hastily went to open the cash register, the robber took noticed of Kathy.

"Your a cute one. Why don't you come with me and have a good time?"

The man reached out with the hand not holding the gun, making to grab some part of Kathy. Emboldened by the alcohol in his system, Wil surged forward. He decided to generally do the same thing he did last night, because it seemed to work so well. Before the man's arm could touch Kathy, Wil kicked the back of the man's knee, hard and used his right arm to direct the man's right arm, which was holding the gun, away from Kathy and the clerk.

The man gasped in pain and surprise, falling to his knees. Although he put up some resistance against Wil's grip on his arm, he didn't fire the gun. The teen jammed his elbow into the nook of the robber's right arm, forcing him to bend his arm involuntarily, and point the gun in the general direction of his own face.

The robber went to reach over with his left hand, to break the grip Wil had on his right but Wil grabbed it with his own left hand and twisted it until it wouldn't twist anymore. The man struggled, letting out a grunt of pain, but even though he was a little stronger, Wil had the advantage of using his body as leverage.

"Drop the gun," Wil hissed out.

The man continued to struggle for a few seconds more, before loosening his grip on the firearm. As the gun slipped from his grasp, it hit the man's shoulder before clattering to the ground. Wil kicked the offending thing away from everyone in the store.

"I've called the cops. They should be here soon."

Wil nodded his head at the clerk, making sure to keep a firm grip on the wannabe robber. It was almost ten minutes later that the cops arrived, but luckily for Wil no attempts were made to break his grip.

The two officers went through the standard line of questions as they put the robber in handcuffs. The clerk went on and on about how great Wil was, and how brave he was. He even let Kathy get her smokes for free, and Wil was allowed to take a large bag of pretzels for no price at all.

"Oh my god! That was amazing!" Kathy gushed, finally opening her mouth besides to answer a few of the cops questions.

"It was nothing," Wil replied, shrugging of her praise.

"Nothing! You just kicked the shit out of that guy and he had a gun!"

Kathy was looking at him with appreciation, and something else he couldn't quite identify. They walked back in relative silence, and upon entering the house, Kathy began to regal everyone who would listen about what had happened at the convenient store.

As one could believe, there was a lot of skeptics. How could a fifteen year old take on an armed robber? It just didn't seem possible. That's why it was only the few who knew all the training Wil went through that praised him for his heroics.

He ended up sitting on a couch, telling those who would listen exactly how it happened and what he did. It wasn't long though until people started to drift into their own conversations, and soon Wil found that all the attention had shifted from him.

"Do you want to go to my place?"

Wil looked at Kathy in surprise, blinking his eyes a couple of times.

"Where is it?"

She smiled at him, taking his hand and pulling him from his position on the couch.

"Its only a few houses down"

* * *

Wil stared out the window of the purple room he was in. The only thing he had on was a pair of boxers. Kathy lay on her bed, naked as the day she came into the world. Last night there had been two feelings that seemed to overwhelm all others. One was pleasure, and that was for obvious reasons if you would take into account the general states of undress and that musky smell that still lingered in the air.

The other though, the other was a feeling of rightness. No it didn't come from being with Kathy. He seriously doubted anything meaningful would come of last night, even if it did turn into a relationship. It didn't come from playing hockey, which was surprising since he originally thought if he could, he'd play pro. The feeling came from last night at the convenient store. It came from bringing a criminal to justice. Of using the training he had received his entire life into doing something good and helpful to society.

Making up his mind, he turned from the window and walked toward his discarded shorts. Reaching into the front pocket, he pulled out his phone. Scrolling through the contacts he came upon one of two recently added numbers. One of them was Kathy's.

He moved the phone up to his ear, listening as it started to ring.

"Hello?"

The voice sounded groggy, and he cursed himself for forgetting that it was a little before ten on a Saturday. Any teen would still be sleeping.

"Nephthys?"

"Yeah?"

The female superhero-to-be seemed more awake at the usage of her "superhero name."

"Its Wil. From the alley, the other night?"

"I remember" Isis replied.

"Can I meet with you guys sometimes today?"


End file.
